ded on straight
toward the hideous loveliness of that siren singer towering above him.
From the first he had felt subconsciously that it was Thag who called,
and now, in the very center of that ocean of vibrant power, he knew.
Gripped in the music's magic, he went on.

All over the clearing other hypnotized victims were advancing slowly,
with mechanical steps and wide, frantic eyes as the tree-folk came
helplessly to their god's calling. He watched a group of little, dusky
sacrifices pace step by step nearer to the Tree's vibrant branches. The
priestess came forward to meet them with outstretched arms. He saw her
take the foremost gently by the hands. Unbelieving, hypnotized with
horrified incredulity, he watched her lead the rigid little creature
forward under the fabulous Tree whose limbs yearned downward like hungry
snakes, the great flowers glowing with avid color.

[Illustration: "The priestess led the rigid little creature forward
under the fabulous tree."]

He saw the branches twist out and lengthen toward the sacrifice,
quivering with eagerness. Then with a tiger's leap they darted, and the
victim was swept out of the priestess' guiding hands up into the
branches that darted round like tangled snakes in a clot that hid him
for an instant from view. Smith heard a high, shuddering wail ripple out
from that knot of struggling branches, a dreadful cry that held such an
infinity of purest horror and understanding that he could not but
believe that Thag's victims in the moment of their doom must learn the
secret of his horror. After that one frightful cry came silence. In an
instant the limbs fell apart again from emptiness. The little savage had
melted like smoke among their writhing, too quickly to have been
devoured, more as if he had been snatched into another dimension in the
instant the hungry limbs hid him. Flame-tipped, avid, they were dipping
now toward another victim as the priestess paced serenely forward.

* * * * *

And still Smith's rebellious feet were carrying him on, nearer and
nearer the writhing peril that towered over his head. The music shrilled
like pain. Now he was so close that he could see the hungry
flower-mouths in terrible detail as they faced round toward him. The
limbs quivered and poised like cobras, reached out with a snakish
lengthening, down inexorably toward his shuddering helplessness. The
priestess was turning her calm white face toward his.